


Mrs Malfoy, I Presume?

by naarna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Business Man Draco Malfoy, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Misunderstanding, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, based on prompt, comfort drabble, enemy to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 13:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17509709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: Meeting at a Ministry event, Hermione and Draco get mistaken for a married couple. Just how can Draco get Hermione to agree to play his wife to help him out?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/gifts).



> This little story was written after I offered to write one of my _"Comfort Drabbles"_ for the wonderful [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi), who is going through a tough time. <3  
> The prompt I was given was _Enemy To Lovers_ , that's why this—erm—Drabble ended up being a multi-chapter piece.
> 
> I do hope you like it!
> 
> Last but not least, many many thanks to [_Ravenslight_](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenslight/pseuds/ravenslight) for being so kind to beta read the story! <3

Draco leaned against one of the many small standing tables in the Ministry atrium, watching the wizards and witches around him with a bored sigh as they listened to Minister Shacklebolt giving one of his long-winded speeches in honour of a Wizengamot member who decided to retire.

Blackwood was an old friend of his family, so his father had urged him from his cell in Azkaban to attend the event. However, he very much disliked social events at the Ministry—they were like a necessary evil for him to be able to get any business done in the wizarding world. The only reason he did attend the retirement party for Blackwood was that he had heard about Thursby being here as well, a business partner he was desperate to close a deal with.

Otherwise, he couldn’t care less about the old man.

Draco let out another bored sigh before he had another sip of his drink, a decent tasting Firewhisky. He had been here for over an hour now and still hadn’t seen Thursby anywhere to have a little chat; it was like the git was eluding him on purpose.

He had no patience for all those _noveaux riches_ who had been climbing the social ladder ever since the War. They usually had no taste and no manners befitting their new social status.

_Fucking parvenus_ , the whole lot.

But heading a company, he was required to socialise with them in order to be able to do any business. And right now, Thursby was the man he needed, as elusive as he was.

He emptied his tumbler, relishing the mild burn in the back of his throat as he swallowed the remaining Firewhisky. After placing the tumbler on the standing table, he turned around for a walk through the atrium, to exchange a few words with other friends of the family or business partners and finally have a chat with Thursby before he could leave the event.

However, he barely managed to avoid running into a mess of curls who had been standing straight behind him during Shacklebolt’s speech. He knew only one person who had such an amount of gorgeous curls, and she was the bane of his life. “Damn it, Granger!”

“Malfoy! What are you even doing here?” Scowling, she firmly poked her index finger into his chest to keep him at a distance. “This is a Ministry event, and you don’t work here–”

“Gladly so,” he retorted in an annoyed hiss, pushing her hand away before she would leave a bruise. He was not at all intimidated by her glare, which was filled with the desire to burn him down. “But you forget that my family still holds a seat in the Wizengamot, and Blackwood happens to be an old friend of my family, but why the hell would you even care?”

“Because you almost ran me over perhaps? Or maybe just because I don’t trust you?”

Fighting to keep his frustration under control, he leaned down to her level. “You’re the one who makes my life impossibly hard with your goddamn regulations. You just want to see me fail, do you? Oh yes, it’s one of your many pleasures in life. Tell me, how’s your relationship with that redhead going?”

He had hit the right button because her glare intensified, the dark brown shade of her eyes turning into a dangerous black as she huffed at him. “None of your business!”

“Isn’t he dating that Brown girl now?” he continued, his smirk growing as she huffed at him again. If he didn’t feel drawn to her fire already, he’d still admit that she was gorgeous when she was all passionate and riled up over nothing.

“Stop it! My private life is not your concern–”

“Well, it’s hard to miss since the Prophet loves to write about you and your lack of… you know. I’d advise your ex to be a tad more discreet about it.” He was barely fast enough to catch her hand as she tried to slap him in response, grabbing her wrist tightly.

The touch of her skin sent tingles through his fingers, letting his heart beat faster. She had the softest skin of anyone he knew, and he would give his fortune just to find out how soft the rest of her skin and body were.

Not that he would ever admit it.

“Mr Malfoy!” a portly middle-aged woman shouted from a few feet away, waving at him with a polished smile as she came closer; just like other newly rich she wore too much jewellery to show off her new status. “I watched you and your wife, and it reminded me of my own marriage when I was younger… such passion! I have to say, you make such a lovely couple.”

“I’m not his–”

“ _Mrs_ Thursby, what a pleasure to meet you here,” Draco said, putting on his most polite smile as he indicated a bow with his head, tightening his hold on Hermione’s wrist at the same time. She better keep quiet for a moment. “I’ve been trying to find your husband all evening.”

“Yes, yes. He didn’t feel so well, and the Healer said he should rest. His heart, you know?”

Draco nodded with feigned interest before he briefly turned over to Hermione, who was trying to wriggle her hand from his grip. His tense expression softened into a faint smile when she stopped and nodded. “Yes, my mother does have palpitations from time to time, forcing her to rest and cancel her schedule.”

“A fine woman, your mother. I admire her grace and her beauty…” Mrs Thursby sighed and lifted her glass of champagne to her lips to have a sip. “Mr Malfoy, I know you and my husband are discussing a deal, and he was looking forward to meeting you here. He only ever speaks highly of you and your company. That’s why I would like to invite you to our garden party next weekend, as an apology. Both you and your wife.”

“Of course, Mrs Thursby. We’d love to come. Just send us an owl with the details.”

Mrs Thursby’s grin widened and she raised her glass. “Wonderful. I’ll see you at the garden party, then. Now, I need to congratulate Mr Blackwood on his retirement. He’s such a great man, and he has such a beautiful garden!”

Draco let out a deep sigh in relief as he watched Mrs Thursby walk away. Brushing a strand of hair out of his face, he turned towards Hermione, who was still standing next to him rubbing her wrist. “Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you explain that I’m not your wife? That I don’t even like you that much?”

“Because I need that deal, okay?” he snapped at her. “Thursby would be one of our biggest clients. He is interested in my products because of their quality. You know that mine are the best when it comes to ingredients for anything ranging from potions to perfumes.”

“You’re a bloody opportunist, and I will not participate in your little charade just so you can get a deal with them!” After one last glare at him, she turned around to walk away, towards one of the exits, with the closest people jumping out of the way as she was still fuming.

“Granger, please!”

“Forget it, Malfoy! Hell will freeze over before I’m going to participate in your charade!”

It was futile to run after her, or he’d risk being hexed. Instead, he let out a frustrated growl before he made his way through the throngs of people in search of another drink. He absolutely needed one now to flush the irritation out of his system that was throbbing in his veins.

Merlin’s seven balls, she was the most infuriating woman he knew, and the only who ever managed to get under his skin. If only she knew how intoxicating her fire and her passion were… and how she had managed to sneak into every goddamn part of his life.

And now he had to convince this fury of a woman to help him get that deal.

Just his luck!

* * *

 

Draco didn’t waste time in his attempt to convince Hermione to play the part of his wife for one night in order to secure the deal. After getting home from the event, he had pulled a few strings to get as much information about her as he could.

He wouldn’t go into this battle empty-handed, and he could offer her something that she couldn’t refuse.

So, the very next day, he knocked at her door, mentally bracing himself for another battle of wits before he would even be allowed to get inside. She was a challenge, not in the slightest impressed by his name or fortune, nor his attitude.

As much as she was a thorn in his side, sent to make his life unbearably complicated, he actually enjoyed the thrill of being intellectually challenged by her. Every battle he fought with her over the smallest ingredients regulation that concerned his business left him with an odd sense of satisfaction.

And they fought _many_ battles.

After a second, more impatient knock, the door finally opened, only to reveal Hermione in a set of comfy lounge clothes, her hair bound back in a lazy bun. Her face immediately hardened into a disapproving scowl as soon as she recognised him.

“Making house calls now? Not enough that you insist on being an annoying git who keeps bursting into my office to disparage my work?”

“Hello, Granger. Yes, I’m fine. And yes, I’d like to come inside.”

She scoffed at him, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “As if I’d let you in...”

“You need to learn proper etiquette; it would benefit your social career, you know?” His hands in his coat pockets, he shrugged; he couldn’t help but smirk at her displayed irritation. “However, I’m not here to discuss your lack of etiquette… I have a proposition—call it a deal, if you want.”

“I told you that Hell would freeze over before I’d help you, Malfoy.”

For a second, Draco was mesmerised by her lips that were slightly pursed in a pout, glistening with what he guessed was lip gloss. “I’m sure that could be arranged…”

“Pff.”

He covered his momentary distraction with a brief sigh and another smirk. “I’m sure you will find it hard to say no to what I have to offer–”

“And what would that be?” Still slightly pouting, she narrowed her eyes at him, a glint of disapproval in her eyes. “You know full well that you can’t buy me.”

He chuckled, shrugging again in disbelief. “You think I’m trying to buy you? Seriously, Granger. I’m a businessman; I make deals. But I would much prefer to discuss the details inside… I’m pretty sure your neighbours will start to wonder about the handsome man on your doorstep. You know how the press is these days.”

“You and handsome?” She snorted at his words, but then she stepped aside to let him inside. “Don’t dare say anything about my place, or your deal is over before you know it.”

Draco felt like he had won the first battle and took a moment to have a look around while she motioned him towards the living room. To his surprise, the whole place had a comfortable feel to it, cosy even; he had thought her place would be covered in books, but instead, she had an impressive shelf covering a whole wall, filled with every kind of book.”It’s… It’s nice, really.”

“Thanks.” Her words were almost a whisper as she remained at the door, watching him. “Just make sure you don’t sit in Crookshanks’ favourite spot.”

He turned to her with an earnestly surprised expression, his eyebrow raised slightly. “You still have that orange furball? He must be ancient by now.”

She nodded, wrapping her cardigan a little tighter around her waist. “Kneazles can grow old…”

“The armchair is safe to sit on? I mean…”

With another nod, she finally entered the room to take her seat on the two-seater sofa, moving a pillow to the other side. “You said you had a proposition to make? I’m not saying that I’ll agree, but now I want to hear what you have to offer.”

Still in his coat, he sat down in the armchair, immediately leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “You remember that Mrs Thursby thought you were my wife. I’m sorry for not explaining the situation… In my defence, there are rumours that they would like to introduce me to their daughter, and I would much rather avoid that.”

“Well, rumours also are that you can’t resist any woman intent on flirting with you.”

His smile briefly widened into a grin at her response. “Well, those are just rumours. And before you say something, you are more than welcome to ask my servants about my activities.”

“Just say house-elves,” she said, a faint smile now on her lips as she curled up her legs. “Everyone knows you still employ them.”

“Anyway… I do need that deal with the Thursby company to ensure the future of my own. I don’t know whether you’ve ever done any research, but I’d like to keep those people— _my_ people employed.” He rubbed his hands as he studied her for a breath or two. “And with a _charming wife_ at my side, I might actually get it.”

“Charming? Wouldn’t someone like one of the Greengrass sisters be better suited to be a rich wife?”

“Well, Daphne married a French wizard, and Astoria just announced her pregnancy. So, no. Plus, Mrs Thursby thought _you_ were charming, and despite our differences, I’d like to agree.”

She placed her head in her hand, shaking it slightly in amusement. “It’s almost cute how sugary sweet you can be now that you _need_ something from me.”

Draco bit his tongue and instead just shrugged, even adding a wink. “Well, you never really gave me a chance before…”

“What do you offer in return? Not that I have any intent to say yes anyway.”

“I’ll fund one of your charity projects, for example the one supporting a reform of werewolf rights. And I would do so in public because if a Malfoy endorses a charity, many more people will show their support.” As soon as he had made the offer, he could see that brain of hers work out the opportunity he offered. She couldn’t possibly say no; it had to be too tempting.

“Just money?” she asked, eyeing him sceptically. “Or would you also support the reform in the Wizengamot? You said that your family still holds a seat there…”

“We do, yes.” He leaned back, placing his arms on the armrests, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers. “I might be persuaded to put in a good word, based on how well the garden party goes. You’ll get the financial funding anyway.”

“Ugh. Dammit.” She sighed and rubbed her face. “Hypothetically, playing your wife at that party, what would that require? Because I’m not into getting too physical with you…”

He had her.

Satisfied with his victory, Draco couldn’t help but grin broadly. “The Thursbys usually have an orchestra and a small dance floor, so maybe one or two dances, and the occasional hand holding and my hand on your back. I’ll make sure to keep it away from the dangerous zones. Other than that, you’re free to mingle and enjoy the evening. I might add a bonus if you manage to say nice things about me and my company...”

“Ugh, fuck it. Harry is going to kill me,” she said with a groan, leaning back with her arms crossed once more. “Fine, I’ll play your charming wife, but all expenses are on you: dress, jewellery, hair, and whatsoever–”

“No problem. I’ll send you a list of addresses, just drop–”

“And you will fund my werewolf law reform with a substantial sum, plus—and I’m not going to budge on that!—support it in the Wizengamot when it’s up for the vote. All of it or you can forget it.”

“You’re driving a hard bargain,” he replied, trying to keep that small flutter in his stomach under control. “Fine. I agree. A substantial sum and support in the Wizengamot when it’s up for the vote. I just hope you know your classic dance steps.”

“You’ll see,” she replied with a growing smirk that brightened her face with an almost mischievous spark. “I do know a few things.”

Ignoring the surge of fluttering in his stomach, he rose to his feet and brushed off his coat. “I’ll send you an owl with all the details and the addresses. If your friends have a problem with our arrangement, feel free to send them my way…”

“Oh, I will.” She got up as well to show him out, wrapping her cardigan once more around her waist. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to explain how we avoided the press knowing about our… you know… wedding. Because me, their _Golden Girl_ , marrying a former Death Eater would definitely make the first page, pictures and candids included.”

“Not a huge fan of those big weddings where half the wizarding world is invited. We could have eloped and only our closest friends know, maybe,” he said once they reached the door. It was the only detail he hadn’t thought of before if he was honest.

“I actually like that, you know? A small wedding with just the closest friends and parents attending. But I don’t know if I’m ever going to marry…”

“Same.” With one last smile towards her, he stepped outside while she held the door open. “See you on Saturday.”

* * *

 

Saturday evening, Draco waited nervously at his place for Hermione to finally show up. He was pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, repeatedly checking his fob to make sure she wasn’t late, as there were a few details they still needed to discuss in order to pass as a married couple in front of Thursby.

In addition, he didn’t know what she was going to look like, although she had racked up quite a bill using his name in the shops. However, he was sure that it would be worth every expense. And maybe, just maybe, she would dislike him a little less afterwards.

He was about to turn around for another round in front of the fireplace when he heard a knock on the door, to his complete surprise. With a sigh, he went for the door to answer, but his house-elf was faster; the creature bowed with reverence as it let Hermione enter.

Even covered in a black wizarding-style robe, Hermione was a sight to behold. Astonished, Draco stopped mid-step to simply gaze at her and take her in and keep himself from gaping too much. Her hair was tamed into a beautiful cascade of curls, framing her gorgeous face. Underneath the black robe, he could glimpse a long flowing dress in a dark burgundy red which was absolutely perfect for her warm olive skin tone.

“Hello,” he finally managed to say with a soft smile, coming closer to greet her with his hand held out. “I have to say I didn’t know what to expect, but this is… fantastic.”

“Thanks.” With blushing cheeks, she did a slow turn-around as she unbuttoned the robe. Facing him again, she pulled it open to reveal the rest of the dress, and it looked perfect on her—a classic flowing cut with a high cleavage and long sleeves—and Merlin help him—accentuating her figure in all the right places.

“I see… Mrs Selkins is worth every single Sickle.”

“Wait until you see the back,” she said with a wink as she rearranged her robe. “But yes, I have to admit, I did have fun visiting all those places and being treated like a princess as soon as I mentioned your name. I could get used to it.”

“Better not,” he replied with a chuckle. With a deep breath, he tried to push the growing adoration for her back down. After all, they only had a truce until their deal was over and done; there was no need to make it more complicated. “Now, you’ve read the additional notes I’ve sent you?”

“All memorised. Quiz me, if you don’t believe me.” She finally accepted his hand and let him lead her into the living room, as they would use the Floo to reach Thursby’s place.

“Granger, I would never doubt your memory. After all, you tend to remember every single thing I ever said and use it against me more often than I like.” He dared a look at her from the side, noticing how little make-up she actually wore; it only added to her beauty. Silently, he thanked Merlin for the opportunity to get to work with her at such a close level.

“Well, to return the compliment, I do sort of envy your ability to recall all those numbers correctly…”

Now it was Draco’s turn to blush, even though it was only a faint pink colouring his cheeks. “Comes with the job, I guess.”

“Yeah…” Reaching the fireplace, she turned around to face him with a more earnest, almost professional expression. “What do I have to expect? Are any of your friends there? Or anyone else who might know both of us?”

He shook his head before he reached for the porcelain pot containing the Floo powder to hold it up for her. “Ready to play _Lady Malfoy_?”

With a confused expression, she grabbed a handful of the powder. “I thought that is your mother’s title? Although, all those wizarding titles and ranks are just as confusing as Muggle nobility, to be honest…”

“Yes, it is a complicated matter, and my mother has a whole shelf on it in her residence. But, if you were married to me for real, it would be your title as well. I’m sure I could ask my mother to borrow you some books on it if you want to know more.” Holding a handful of Floo Powder in his hand as well, he returned the porcelain pot to its spot. For a moment, just before she stepped into the fireplace, he wished they weren’t just discussing it hypothetically, that he could present her as his real wife instead of playing a game to get a deal.

He was pulled from his musings as she threw the powder and clearly called out the Thursby residence as her destination; he smiled when he saw her wave at him just before she disappeared into the flames.

Seconds later, he joined her on the other side, immediately greeted by a human servant ready to take his robes that had covered his own choice of evening wear until now—a tailored dress suit inspired by Muggle fashion, in a classic black with a white buttoned shirt and a dark green cummerbund.

“Oh, Draco, dear, there you are!” Hermione waved at him from next to the garden entrance, already cornered by Mrs Thursby who was wearing a dress with far too many layers, exaggerating her portly figure. Yet, hearing Hermione using his first name was the thing that let a warm shiver run down his spine—he was so used to her hissing his last name with slight disdain.

After a deep breath, he put on his most polished smile and joined the women, reaching for the hand Hermione held out for him, just as he bowed his head towards the elder woman. “Mrs Thursby, as always, you look magnificent…”

Next to him, Hermione barely held back a giggle but managed to hide it behind a polite smile when he squeezed her hand. “The necklace is a family heirloom, I presume?”

With a proud smile, Mrs Thursby reached for the heavy necklace decorating her cleavage, brushing her thumb over several of the blue jewels. “Oh, indeed, Mrs Malfoy! I inherited it from my grandmother, and I only wear it on special occasions… But now, let me introduce you to the other guests.”

Following their lady host, Draco finally discovered the back of her dress as he gently placed his hand just below her shoulders, only to be surprised to touch her bare skin. He barely managed to contain a gasp when he realised that it was cut low, revealing more of her wonderful form down to just above the small of her back.

Damn, _gorgeous_ was an understatement.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next hour, Draco introduced Hermione to a list of important business partners from all over the British Isles, all of them charmed by her and some of them astonished that he had succeeded in wooing her, as they recognised her as a former War heroine.

He had previously thought her to be harsh and lacking any upbringing, so he caught himself repeatedly as he watched in amazement how graceful and charming she acted.

“Mr Malfoy, I’m so glad you could make it!” A middle-aged man approached him, clad in a similarly tailored dress suit, although his cummerbund seemed a bit stretched in places. “I’m so sorry for missing you at Blackwood’s retirement party, but my Healer strictly forbade any stress that day.”

“Mr Thursby, what a pleasure,” Draco greeted with a polished smile, placing his tumbler on the standing table next to him before holding out his hand for a shake. “Glad to see you feel better again.”

“Don’t you want to introduce me to this gentleman, my dear?” Hermione said with her most adoring smile as she came up from behind, hooking her arm into his.

Mr Thursby’s face immediately lightened up as he saw her, and he bowed his head as a greeting. “Mrs Malfoy, I presume? My wife has told me so much about you. Such a pleasure to meet you…”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she replied, managing to blush the exact right amount. “Such a wonderful garden party… I’m really enjoying myself.”

“Your presence certainly is a highlight tonight,” Mr Thursby replied, his smile widening in response to her compliments. “I do hope to get a chance of a dance with you later.”

“It would be an honour, but I think my dear husband would like to have the first dance with me.” With an unwavering smile, she nudged Draco in the side, who had laid his free hand on hers that rested on his arm.

“Oh yes, dear. The first dance is mine,” Draco replied, slightly leaning into her with a warm smile. “Looking forward to it.”

“Now, Mr Malfoy,” Mr Thursby continued with a more earnest tone to his voice, “can I invite you to a glass of my finest stock? Business is best discussed over a well-aged Firewhisky.”

 

Later that evening, Draco was finally able to lead Hermione to the dance floor as a slow waltz had been announced just as he returned from the business talks with Thursby in private. He was smiling broadly throughout the walk onto the floor, holding on to her hand in his.

“How did it go with Thursby?” she asked as they were dancing slowly to the music; his hands were carefully placed above her waist to avoid any dangerous slips. “Did my charms work on the man?”

“I think I should hire you as my lucky charm, Granger,” he replied with a satisfied grin, throwing a quick glance around him to avoid crashing into another dancing couple. He was positively surprised at her security in her steps and her trust in him leading them. Given their history, he had expected a bigger struggle, yet here they were, dancing in harmony. “He agreed to most of my conditions, and the rest is just details.”

“I don’t think you could pay me enough for that, Malfoy… And working with an opportunist and snob like you is not on my list anyway. This is a one-time arrangement; don’t forget that.”

He frowned briefly at her words, but then immediately covered it with another smile. “I’m not as bad as you think I still am.”

“You got off scot-free for what you’ve done in the War–”

“Granger, please. Just ask your friend Potter about it; he did testify for me at my trial. You forget that I was under supervision for a few years, and I was only allowed to take over the business after agreeing to some very strict conditions. You just think I’m still a shallow, prejudiced bully, right?”

With a sigh and a faint smile, she lowered her gaze for a moment. “I’m… I’m sorry. It came out harsher than I meant to. It’s just… It’s just hard to ignore sometimes.”

“I get that,” he replied, appreciating her honesty. In the corner of his eye, he could already see Thursby waiting at the edge of the floor, ready to take over. “I learned a lot of things the hard way, and I still sometimes get hate mail or insults in the streets. I can live with that. However, it would be great if we could let the past be past and…”

She looked up again, her faint smile slowly widening, the warm spark in her dark brown eyes returning. “You want us to be friends?”

“Let’s start with _acquaintances_.” He sighed once more as the last notes of the slow waltz were played.

“Hmm… I think I can live with that, as long as we keep up the banter. I love that.” Just as the waltz was finished, she came to a halt, even though her hands remained in their positions on his shoulder and hand. Her face was beaming with her broadest, yet slightly timid smile; it was like an invitation to just kiss her right there.

“Oh, I definitely love your fiery retorts, my dear.” He leaned forward as the chatting noise immediately grew while the small orchestra got ready to play their next piece. “No one gives back as good as you do–”

“Mr Thursby!” Hermione let out, adding her charming smile for good measure, when the host approached them. “I presume your wife isn’t so fond of dancing a waltz?”

“She isn’t so fond of dancing, yes,” the elder man said with a sheepish grin. “Arthritis in her knees. But she still loves playing hostess.”

Draco nodded before he unwillingly let go of Hermione, as he would have loved to share another dance with her. “Have fun, my dear. I’ll go and get some drinks.”

“I’d love another of those _Magic Sunrise_ cocktails, my dear.” With a wink towards Draco, Hermione accepted the offer to dance by Mr Thursby just as the next waltz, a faster one, started playing. “I think I deserve it after this one.”

“Sure, my love.” Draco had to chuckle at the tip of her tongue she dared to pull at him in response before she was whisked away onto the dance floor. He watched them for a few more seconds before finally turning around to get the drinks.

It wasn’t the last drink he’d get for her that evening, nor was it the last dance they would share amongst lots of exchanged words in their continued friendly banter.

* * *

 

Monday morning, Draco was about to finish writing his instructions for Gringotts to transfer the money from his vaults to Granger’s vaults, even adding a generous bonus for playing her part so wonderfully.

Emptying his coffee, he had one last look over it to make sure it contained all the necessary information. The goblins at Gringotts were pedantic enough to refuse a transfer instruction just because it contained a single typo.

Just as he was about to get up to leave for his company, he heard the Floo sound, announcing a visitor. The instruction note still in his hand, he left the kitchen to see who had arrived—it was far too early for his mother to pay him a visit.

“MALFOY! You said it was a private party! That no one would know!”

The harsh words thrown at him rang in his ears for a moment before he realised that a very irate Hermione stood in his living room, holding up a copy of the day’s _Daily Prophet_ ; the first page of the newspaper showed a picture of them dancing later that evening, both smiling. And to his utter dismay, his growing affection for her was clearly visible as well.

“The Thursby garden party is always a private event,” he retorted with a hiss as he approached her. “I had no idea there would be any of those scumbags present. I know you hate them with a passion–”

“You have absolutely no idea!” She was shaking with anger, and her lethal glare made it clear that she would have loved to hex him into the next dimension. “This is entirely your fault, so make it clear that we are not married for real.”

“With those pictures published, do you really think anyone would even believe us?” Not moving away an inch, he could feel the spikes of her frenzied magic as it came in contact with his own. “We’d make fools of ourselves by responding to this trash!”

Before Draco could continue, the fireplace activated once more, drawing both their attention. He sighed when he recognised his mother stepping out of it.

“Draco! What’s going on? Did you forget to tell me something?”

He took a deep breath to calm down and put up a softer expression to appease his mother. “It’s just a misunderstanding, Mother. Granger only helped me close a deal by playing my wife at Thursby’s garden party. Press wasn’t supposed to be there at all!”

“This is a nightmare,” Hermione let out, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, her rolled-up copy of the Prophet in the other. “Me, married to you of all people. Might as well go into exile now.”

Narcissa pulled the _Prophet_ from Hermione’s hand to have a look, her face softening for the briefest of moments when she studied the pictures on the first page. “Oh, my dear. You really do look like a couple enjoying themselves…”

“That’s not even the worst part,” Hermione replied and turned towards Narcissa to share a look at the front page; her eyes were still a dark glare, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she pointed out a paragraph. “Here it says ‘ _It’s clear that the newlywed Mr Malfoy is in love with his absolutely stunning wife._ ’ Ugh.”

“Hey, you did look absolutely stunning,” he said, adding a smile as an attempt to appease her. “They at least go that part right.”

She shot him a quick look before she sighed; however, her slightly blushing cheeks betrayed her. “It’s not about that, you know? They can’t seriously believe you could ever love someone _like me_?”

“Miss Granger–”

“Please, Granger, do give me _some_ credit. I’m not half as bad as you think.” Exasperated, he brushed through his hair, not caring about tousling the carefully arranged strands now. “And I’m really sorry for the mess.”

She nodded in acknowledgement to his relief before she turned around to face him once more, his mother behind her folding the paper once more. “I’m just tired of having my private life all spread out on the front page all the time. It was hell after the breakup with Ron, even though we split as friends.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“So,” Narcissa said with a questioning furrow of her brows, interrupting the moment, “what are you going to do? This needs to be corrected…”

“I don’t know.” Draco briefly slumped his shoulders as he rubbed his neck. He could feel a low headache coming on, throbbing in the back of his head. “It’s not like they are going to believe us. And…”

“What?” Hermione asked, her brows furrowed when he hesitated.

“You’re not going to like it, Granger,” he replied, suddenly hesitating.

“Just say it, please. What’s possibly worse than the situation we’re already in?”

He shared a look with his mother who nodded in possible agreement before he returned his attention to Hermione, who was staring at him impatiently and with her arms crossed now. “I… Look, what about playing along? I mean, continue playing the married couple for them. You’d have–”

“You have to be kidding! Continue that charade?”

“You’d have full access to the estates and the main family vault. I’ll make a monthly donation to your charity, the same amount as agreed upon for the garden party.”

“I’m not going to share a bed with you, Malfoy!”

He sighed at her open display of disgust at the very idea. “You can choose your own residence. It’s not entirely uncommon for a Malfoy wife to have her own quarters.”

“That is true, my dear,” Narcissa added with a faint smile. “I always had my own quarters before… you know. You don’t even have to see him every day…”

“I should have known better than come here! You really are an opportunist!” Hermione growled right at him. “You know the advantages of being married to a member of the Golden Trio, as much as I hate that name–”

“Granger, I’m just buying some time to find a way out of this mess!”

“Oh no!” She made a step towards him, her finger raised to poke his chest. “You’re not. I should have asked Ginny for help… UGH!”

“Oh, as if _she_ could have solved our problem! You’re actually stupid enough to refuse my offer–”

“I’m not stupid!”

“Then heavily prejudiced for all I care!” He pushed her hand away, getting a momentary hold of her wrist before she managed to pull it away.

“I’ve had enough. I’m leaving! And don’t you dare mention your idea ever again!” After one last threatening glare, Hermione finally turned around, reaching for the porcelain pot with the Floo powder.

“Draco, you can’t let her leave like that!” Narcissa cried out as she stepped aside to let the furious Hermione pass.

He shrugged and watched Hermione step in the fireplace. “No use arguing with her right now, Mother. Not when she is like that.”

“You’re a fool…” She only shook her head at him in disbelief.

“I know, Mother. I know.” His headache was now throbbing stronger and along the right side of his head; closing his eyes was only a momentary relief from it. It was one of those moments when he wished his heart wasn’t such a fucking traitor.

Oh yes, he was a fool for liking the fiery lioness. An utter fool.

“Could you please take this to Gringotts?” he asked a few seconds later, holding up the transfer note he still had in his hand. “I need to lie down and take a potion before my headache blows my brains out.”

“Of course.” With a sympathetic smile, Narcissa took the note and folded it neatly before putting it in the pocket of her robe. “We’ll find a solution; don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

 

Several days of headaches and deadly silence from Hermione later, Draco received an official-looking owl. The bird was waiting at his home, staring at him in sheer indignation as he opened the window to let it in.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Draco muttered as the owl hopped inside, holding out its leg for him to take the note off.

It let out a little, satisfied sound as it accepted the owl treat from him in return for the delivery of the note. As soon as the piece of parchment was off, the owl returned outside with another hop, ready to find its way back home.

“Oh, it seems you don’t need a response then…” Draco watched it fly off before he returned his attention to the note in his hands. He knew the seal; it was the one the Head Auror used. With a sigh, he opened it.

 

_Draco,_

_Don’t be scared off by the official-looking seal; I just used the opportunity while visiting my dear husband in his office._

_We’re both a little tired of listening to Hermione rambling on about you without being specific. I can only guess that it is about the article in the Prophet…_

_So, Harry’s making lamb chops tonight, and it would be great if you could join us. Dinner is at seven. Be punctual. No excuses._

_Oh, and it would be great if you could bring a bottle of your good Firewhisky._

_See you tonight!  
Ginny_

 

Draco barely had any time to freshen up and grab a bottle from his alcohol stock. He would have preferred to recharge at home from a long day at his company, but then he’d rather not face an irritated Chaser the next day should he not show up. Being hit by her famous Bat-Bogey Hex was no fun at all.

Ginny was waiting for him as he stepped out of the fireplace, hands on her hips and a smirk brightening her face. “You made it!”

“Not saying no to lamb chops,” Draco replied, returning the smirk, and held up the bottle for her to take. He wouldn’t bring a bottle from his good stock for just anyone, but Ginny was the exception. After the War, they had connected over their shared love for Quidditch, as they had run into each other at games often enough; in addition, he tried to support her professional career as Chaser because she had the talent and fierceness the Harpies needed for a chance to win the next title.

Harry had been a different story; at first, he only begrudgingly accepted his apology and his good acquaintance with Ginny, but he eventually warmed up as well, just like Weasley.

“Didn’t really believe you’d come…” Harry came out of the kitchen, his glasses slightly foggy and an apron wrapped around his waist. He looked just like the embodiment of a houseman, so unlike the official look he wore as Head Auror.

“I prefer to spend a quiet morning tomorrow,” Draco replied, his smirk growing, ignoring Ginny’s nudge in his side. “You Gryffs have the tendency to ruin them.”

“You ruined mine often enough,” Harry replied snarkily without hesitating as he pulled his glasses off and wiped them with the hem of his apron. “But glad you could make it. Dinner is almost ready, only needs a few more minutes. I hope you’re hungry.”

Draco only raised his eyebrow in response, then he leaned sideways against the mantelpiece of the fireplace just as Harry shot his wife a questioning look.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two to discuss whatever you need to discuss.” With a sigh, Harry turned around and wandered back to the kitchen from which a heavenly smell was already escaping.

As soon as they were alone again, Ginny crossed her arms and her face turned into a more earnest pensive expression, although losing nothing of its warmth. “You have an idea what this is about, right?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly subtle in your letter,” Draco replied with a sigh. “The whole thing is a mess…”

She nodded in understanding. “We tried to have the chief editor redact the piece, but he said he had enough witnesses who would testify that you introduced her as your wife–”

“So much for privacy.” For the briefest of moments, he narrowed his eyes and couldn’t help a small growl escape his throat. “But thanks for the effort.”

“Hermione almost hexed him. I think the break-up with Ron upset her more than she wants to admit, and this was just the famous last drop to make her explode.”

Confused, and partly curious, he leaned forward. “They didn’t split amicably? That’s what she told me…”

Ginny shook her head with lips pressed into a thin line. “Well, it wasn’t easy, but there wasn’t any fight, if you mean that. Just awkward between them right now. Good thing he’s on a mission abroad right now.”

Great, Granger was taking it out on him for having her heart broken. Draco sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea–”

“I’m sure you meant well… I know by now that you’re a big softie under all that sarcasm.”

“I should never have gotten drunk with you!” he let out in exasperation to her amusement. “I just tried to accommodate her as good as I could—full access to the family estates, all the libraries, as well as have her own residence, which wouldn’t be entirely uncommon in the Malfoy family—and she thinks I try to buy her. Honestly, has she _ever_ cared to look into anything I do these days?”

Turning slightly, Ginny nudged him with a wink. “It’s not like you shout it from any rooftop, so barely anyone knows what you do for wizarding society. Believe me, Harry tried enough times to tell her that you’ve changed quite a bit, but when she has her own ideas about someone, it’s close to impossible to change them.”

“Oh, I know.” Draco sighed, adding a faint smile to soften it. “And here I thought the garden party was the chance… Honestly, you should have seen her. She was gorgeous–”

“I see,” Ginny said with a slow-growing smirk. “Her charms worked a little too well on you. You like her.”

*Pff… Right now, she only gives me headaches.”

“Dinner is ready!” Harry shouted from the kitchen from where the clatter of pans could be heard.

The kitchen smelled heavenly when Draco entered it to take a seat at the table, salivating when Harry brought the filled plates to the table. He knew that it was a rare treat to have Harry cook dinner, given his workload as Head Auror, although Ginny was usually just as busy with her training and games.

However, Draco saw that there was a fourth set of cutlery next to Harry seat, and it immediately dampened his appetite. She was supposed to be here too.

“I’m sorry for the deceit,” Ginny said when she noticed his expression sitting down next to him. “I didn’t want to risk you running back as soon as you knew.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled faintly and loaded some of the green beans on his fork. “Maybe she’ll listen this time…”

 

They were finished with the main course when the fireplace activated once more, announcing the arrival of their second guest. Harry immediately ran into the living room to greet her; a few tired words could be heard before they came into the kitchen.

Draco could watch the door from his seat, and with his heart racing slightly faster, he waited for them to enter.

“I’m really sorry for being late, but Talbot came in with a few urgent cases when I want—Oh.” Hermione stopped mid-step as soon as she saw him, her expression immediately hardening.

“Come on, sit down. We’re just having a nice dinner,” Ginny said with an inviting smile as she pointed at the empty seat next to Harry, opposite herself.

“I-I don’t know.”

“You’re going to miss out on the lamb chops,” Draco said with a quiet voice, his gaze still fixed on her, yet he avoided looking her in the eyes. “I was tricked here too.”

“Okay…” With that, Hermione took her seat, nervously pulling her hair into an easy bun. She looked exhausted, most likely distracting herself with work.

But at least she seemed willing to listen now.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Draco felt the lack of sleep as he flushed down the last bites of breakfast with coffee. The dinner at the Potter house had been awkward at best with them all dancing around on eggshells; he had excused himself after half an hour, all tensed up and a headache threatening to take over.

Not that he had gotten any sleep anyway.

“Does Master want another cup of his coffee?” his house-elf asked with a solemn voice, waiting to be handed his cup. “Master looks more tired than usual in the mornings…”

“I’m fine. Just do the dishes.” Just as he got up to get dressed, he heard a loud knock at the door, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. He only nodded when he saw the expectant look of his house-elf, and then watched her stroll out of the kitchen to answer the door.

Waiting in the kitchen, and wishing for a second cup of coffee by now, he could hear the door being opened. At least it wasn’t his mother, as she always arrived using the Floo. However, he couldn’t quite distinguish the words in the low exchange between his house-elf and his visitor, yet the voice seemed familiar, sending a tingle down his spine.

Seconds later, he could hear unsure steps echoing in the corridor, coming closer until his house-elf reappeared in the door. “Master has a visitor. They said it is important.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, brushing back through his hair, only to sigh deeply when he saw who had come by.

“Hey,” Hermione said timidly; she remained in the door, holding tight to her cardigan for comfort. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your morning, but… but I couldn’t sleep last night. Ginny told me a lot of things about you after you left. And now I feel like a complete idiot.”

“You’re far from an idiot, Granger.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. That garden party was wonderful; I actually felt great that evening after feeling lonely for so long. I guess the article in the _Prophet_ just brought it all back.”

Rubbing his neck, he studied her for a moment—she looked about as bad as he felt from lack of sleep and an overactive mind. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, and she seemed to still wear her pyjamas, only covered by her cardigan. But her face was softer now than the evening before, her cheeks showing a faint blush while she kept biting her lower lip.

“It was a horrible piece,” he finally said, smiling when he saw her shoulders slump briefly in relief. “And the situation is a mess now.”

She nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “Did you mean what you said about continuing the charade? That I would be treated like a real Lady Malfoy with access to all the estates and stuff?”

“Yes. You’d love the libraries–”

“And you promise not to do anything against my will? Like touching me when I don’t want to be touched?”

“Granger, I’ve learned the hard way how it feels to have to endure and do things against your will. I’m not going to do that someone else. Just be open with me about your boundaries.”

She breathed in deeply and nodded. “I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

“Most days, I thankfully forget about it as well…” He pushed himself off the counter and reached for the pot to fill it up. “Coffee?”

“Dying for one!” she let out and finally made a step into the kitchen, letting herself fall into the nearest chair. She yawned heavily when he finally brought the full cups over to the table, only to cover it with a sheepish grin. “I had your proposition stuck in my head all night… and however I looked at it, I couldn’t come up with something better.”

“So, you’re willing to give it a chance?” Watching her turning her spoon to dissolve the unbelievable amount of sugar, he took the first sip, relishing the bitter warmth on his tongue.

“Y-Yes. I could do with more events like the garden party. I–” A violent yawn cut off the rest of her words; she hid her embarrassment behind her cup as she had another sip to fight her apparent exhaustion. “Sorry. What I wanted to say is that I felt special again. I know we just pretended, but… you cared about me. At least it seemed like that. You have no idea how nice that felt.”

“The breakup with the redhead didn’t go smoothly?” he asked, wincing as soon as the words were out; he didn’t want to upset her again with unnecessary intrusive questions now that she started to trust him enough to open up even just an inch. The re-established truce between them was still fragile enough. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“It’s okay, I think.” She shrugged, her smile fading into a thin line. “It was just a really bitter moment when I realised that we lost each other between our jobs and life dreams. Ron can be really sweet and caring. He learned a lot since the War, you know? It’s… It’s just… He’s happy with his job as an Auror—and he’s good at it!—but I just couldn’t see myself staying home and playing the housewife and mother. I still want to change things, help people. I’m no Molly, you know? Neither of us would be happy… And that realisation really hurts.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, adding a sympathetic smile when he saw the pain briefly flash over her face. There was a small surge in his chest to just move over to her side and do whatever she needed to smile again. However, he flushed it down with another gulp from his coffee, emptying his cup.

“Ugh. I don’t even know why I just told you that.” She rubbed her eyes before she ran her hands over her hair, only to sigh when she realised that it was a complete mess. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. I mean, Talbot actually put me on leave yesterday, at least until everything calmed down again.”

“I remember you mentioning him loading you with more cases?” Trying to keep his voice friendly and soft, he leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the table, head in hand. “Although, I get it.”

“Thanks.” Holding her cup tight between her hands, she finished her coffee, only putting the cup down once she had caught the last drop. With a sigh, she mimicked his posture, although she slouched more in her seat.

After a few more seconds, however, she straightened her posture, just as her eyes showed a defiant, almost mischievous glint in addition to the smirk appearing on her lips. “You know what? Your proposition would be the perfect _fuck you_ to them all.”

“You think?” He couldn’t help but chuckle, admiring the re-ignited fire in her eyes.

“Yeah.” Her smile broadened in response to his chuckle. “I mean, I really didn’t come up with a better option, and I do feel like showing them. Maybe it won’t be bad at all, you know?”

“Oh, I do hope to give you a great experience,” he replied with a smirk. “After all, I get to show you off as the new Lady Malfoy.”

“ _Lady Malfoy_ …” Her chuckle dissolved into another big yawn. “Sorry. Maybe I should try to get some sleep again. Could… Could you make me a list of everything that is required of a Lady Malfoy?”

“I’ll tell my mother; she’ll be more than glad to help you out. But I think all that is needed are attendance at some social events and the occasional outing in the streets. I’m not going to force you to live with me, although I do have enough guest rooms here.”

She yawned again, more violently this time. “Damn it. Let’s discuss this another time. I feel like my brain is shutting down.”

“How about dinner tonight to discuss the details?” Amused, he watched her fight yet another yawn. “Tibby makes some decent filets or chops. So nothing fancy, just wear whatever you find comfortable.”

“Sounds like a plan.” After a nod, Hermione pushed herself to her feet, followed by Draco to let her out.

* * *

 

“Mr Malfoy, you have a vis–”

“Honey, how come you haven’t told me you’re married?” Pansy didn’t let Draco’s secretary finish and entered his office with an amused smirk, holding up a cigarette which was thankfully still unlit. “And why was I not invited to the wedding? You know I would have loved to make her dress!”

“Una, please, bring us some of your fine tea, thanks.” Welcoming the distraction, Draco sat up, even stretched his legs a little to relax them, just as Pansy took possession of one of his visitor chairs, draping her legs over one armrest and playing with the cigarette before finally putting it away.

“I came back as soon as I heard about it because I felt a tad insulted that I wasn’t invited to your wedding, you know?” Pansy said when the assistant closed the door. “I’m your oldest still living friend, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Pansy,” Draco started, leaning on his hand; he shook his head in amusement. “There was no wedding, I promise you. It was just a misunderstanding that has spiralled out of control by now.”

“A misunderstanding, sure.” She raised her eyebrow. “One that you didn’t mind happening, right? It’s like the next best thing–”

“Pansy, please.”

“Oh, come on, my dear. I know you’ve had a soft spot for her for years now.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a huff, “but the whole thing is a mess. I’m just glad she plays along.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, Pansy put her feet on the floor to lean forward. “I thought she hated your guts?”

“Yeah… no? Ugh.” He let out a deep sigh. “I guess I don’t really know.”

Una’s return to the office, balancing a tray of tea and biscuits, pulled him from his thoughts for a moment. “Boss, the Black archive is asking whether they need to update your RSVP for the end of summer party or not, now that you are… erm… you know.”

Brushing through his hair, he shared a look with Pansy who only smirked in response. “Tell them I’ll bring _my wife_ as well. Thanks.”

“Oh, you’re so doomed, my dear.” Pansy chuckled loudly as soon as they were alone again; she leaned closer to add a cube of sugar and some milk to her tea. “You really want to bring her to the Black Archive event?”

He nodded, reaching for a biscuit. “She agreed to it. My mother is already working with her on the details of etiquette–”

“Let me design her dress! I promise she’ll be the absolute highlight!”

“Pansy, I-I don’t know–”

“Please. I’ll even do it for free… like some sort of apology for everything. Please! I know I can make her look absolutely stunning. You know I’m good.”

Amused by her eagerness, he added a drop of milk to his tea. “Alright, come by for dinner this evening to discuss it. I’m not going to decide such a thing without her.”

“I promise I’ll behave and be nice.”

 

“Ugh, I’m stuffed!” Hermione said with a satisfied groan that evening as she sat down on the sofa in Draco’s living room, holding her stomach. She had chosen a spot close to him, almost touching his arm and shoulder, and now curled herself into a comfortable position.

“Yeah, I can feel it on my hips already,” Pansy said as she claimed the armchair next to the sofa, as always propping her feet over one of the armrests, facing them. “I forgot how good a cook you are, Draco.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile at her compliment and leaned back with his arm resting on the top of the sofa, although making sure that he didn’t touch Hermione without her permission. The urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer was strong enough, but he resisted. For now.

“Just a simple dinner, Pansy,” he said, “but I’m glad it satisfied your inner gourmet.”

Pansy mocked a glare but then broke out in a grin. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow during those additional rounds in the pool to get it off again. You know I have to watch my figure, and then you serve such a sinfully delicious meal. Hermione, you better keep him!”

Hermione shared the briefest of gazes with him before she turned her head away again with blushing cheeks and a sheepish smile. “We just… have a deal, that’s all.”

“Oh, _honey_.” Shaking her head in amused disbelief, Pansy propped herself up.

“And I’m glad you offered to help, okay?” Hermione continued, now sounding more earnest.

“Apropos help, I still need to take your measurements, or else your dress won’t be done for the party.”

“Now?” Hermione asked surprised, tilting her head. “I’m probably all bloated–”

“Honey, you have a figure to die for, bloated or not. No wonder Draco–”

“Pans!” He shot her a warning glare not to say another word, only to earn himself a painful nudge in his ribs when Hermione discovered his scowl.

Chuckling, Pansy moved to get to her feet. With a lazy swish of her wand, she Summoned the bag with her fashion utensils. “Now, let’s get it over with. I’m sure Draco will let us use his bedroom for some privacy.”

“I have a guest room, you know?” he replied, sighing. He didn’t like the mischievous spark in Pansy’s eyes. “I don’t like the idea of you two going through my things. So much for boundaries…”

Hermione stretched her legs to follow Pansy; biting her lower lip, she shot him an apologetic look before she finally got to her feet. “Let’s use the guest room. I’d feel better that way.”

Draco’s heart, the treacherous little thing, made a jump at her words. She simply showed him respect and he had to push that flutter back down before it overtook him.

After they had left the living room, he let his head fall back on the top of the sofa with a desperate groan. Pansy was right; he was doomed. The hours spent with Hermione on the previous days, discussing their plan and their lives until late at night, had left him feeling elevated.

Oh, he was _so_ doomed.

It was somewhere between delight about her feeling comfortable and relaxed in his presence and utter agony about the fact that it was all just a game of pretence. At least for her.

The faint sound of laughter pulled him from his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his face and then moved to his feet. Pansy was devious enough to let something slip to Hermione while taking the measurements, and he at least wanted to know whether he better leave for exile now, so he listened in at the closed door.

“Gods, I’d love to have skin like yours, such warm tones! Now, any favourite colours? And don’t say red.”

“Maybe something in navy blue?”

The measuring tape swished. “I see you more in mauve. Or berry. Or we could go all royal and use a dark purple.”

“I love berry!”

Draco leaned against the door frame as silently as he could, his arms crossed. The measuring didn’t take long; now he heard the scratching of a pen on paper.

“Turn, please?” Pansy said in her professional voice while she kept sketching. “You know, I noticed you two have grown pretty close already. I always told him that he should date, so it’s nice to see you two so relaxed–”

“I-I don’t think this counts as _dating_ ,” Hermione replied with a faint chuckle. “But he’s surprisingly nice and great to talk to.”

“You’d be surprised…” Pansy’s words were barely audible, probably just a mutter to herself. “Okay, I think I have everything I need. I’d say come to my atelier in two days, and we can decide on the final option; this leaves me enough time to tweak anything.”

“Can’t wait to see it!”

“You’re going to blow everybody’s mind.” The door slammed open, revealing a smirking Pansy. “I so knew you’d listen.”

“Draco!” Hermione hastened to pull her top back down over her body; he still managed to get a glimpse of the skin on her stomach, which only added to his longing to touch her, to acquaint himself with her every curve.

“For that, you aren’t allowed to see the dress before the party.” Her smirk grew more devious when she noticed his briefly absent gaze behind her. “You should tell her, you know?”

He shook his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. He put up a hopefully warm smile when Hermione joined them at the door, pulling her mass of curls into another of her lazy buns to keep them out of her face. “How about a drink to let the evening end?”

“Yes!” the women replied in unison, both nudging him in the chest as they passed him on the way back to the living room.

* * *

 

The days until the party at the Black Archive passed fast, and soon enough Draco found himself in his black tie suit in the entrance area of the Archive. Pansy had told him not to wait for them at his place, so he was now nervously pacing up and down the Floo exit, counting all the marble tiles on the floor to keep his mind busy, ignoring the busy noises around him.

Seconds later, the Floo activated again, immediately drawing his attention and speeding up his pulse in anticipation. He relaxed immediately when he saw Pansy step out, her own invitation and her clutch in her hand, sporting a black jumpsuit with a daringly low plunge cleavage. To top it off, she matched her shoes with her lipstick, a dark bloody red.

“She’s going to blow your mind,” she said as she greeted him with a set of cheek kisses. “Oh, don’t worry; I kept your little secret.”

The Floo announcing another arrival cut their little conversation short, letting Draco’s pulse spike again, and he took several deep breaths to keep his cool to Pansy’s amusement.

It was Hermione.

He gasped loudly when he finally registered the dress she wore. It was a long-sleeved dream in berry and dark purple, and his eyes were drawn to the plunging cleavage that had lace details added and the dangerously high leg slit.

Her hair was put up in a simple but delicate do, with a few strands strategically peeking out to frame her face. With a small sigh, she checked her hair for soot before she turned to face them with a timid smile.

“Pans, you are killing me,” he whispered under his breath.

“It was her choice, just so you know,” Pansy replied, waving at Hermione who joined them. “I think we did it, my dear.”

“Oh, gods! It’s too much, isn’t it?” Hermione blushed furiously and checked her dress. “I’ve never showed so much cleavage before–”

“I-It’s wonderful!” Draco finally let out in a breath. “I’m just… wow. You’re stunning, Hermione. This is absolutely perfect.”

Her cheeks still blushing, Hermione stepped to his side and hooked her arm with his. “You look rather handsome, too.”

Draco could feel his cheeks burning in response to her compliment, just as he fought a surge of fluttering in his stomach at her touch. “Ready?”

“I’ll check for drinks,” Pansy threw in from behind with a brief chuckle. “At least wait until I’m down a few steps; I want to take a picture for my collection.”

“Pansy, I’ll tell everyone it was your creation,” Hermione replied, mocking an eyeroll only to be betrayed by her giggle. “And get me a champagne!”

As soon as they entered the main hall, the room was filled with small gasps and excited whispers, lots of them expressing disbelief at the rumours spread by the _Prophet_ to be actually true.

“Kiss me on the cheek,” Hermione whispered, keeping her smile up as she looked over the other attendants. “It’ll add to the shock factor.”

“As you wish.” However, he didn’t exactly kiss her cheek but rather aimed for a spot just above the point where her jaw ended. It was incredibly soft skin, and he inhaled deeply to soak up every last wisp of her perfume. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight…”

She nudged him in the side, mostly to distract from her once more blushing cheeks. “Let’s find the others and get this party started.”

And all throughout the party, Draco probably was the most charmed of them all, unable to keep his eyes off her, whether she was next to him telling an amusing anecdote from work or just having fun with her round of friends who had also received an invitation to this high-prestige event.

She was wonderful.

And he was so so fucked.

* * *

 

As expected, on Monday, the newspapers tried to outdo each other with pictures of them at the Black Archive party; they had even posed for a few of them, barely able to contain their giggles and laughs whenever the present reporters tried to get a word with them.

And this time, Draco didn’t care anymore that his growing affection for her was clearly visible in most of the pictures; it only added to the whole charade. So, for most of Monday, Draco was in a good mood, his smile growing every time a memory of the party flashed his mind—all the wonderful dances with Hermione, her laughs, the soft spark whenever she looked at him, and especially her repeatedly wrapping her arm around his waist.

He had come close to kissing her more than once that evening, aching to just feel those soft lips pressed against his. Yet, each time, and with a sigh, he resorted to a peck on her cheek, relishing in the blush on her cheek and the smile.

However, his mood was dampened by a short note he received in the afternoon, brought in by his assistant with a questioning look.

The note bore the official seal of the Head Auror office, so he immediately ripped it open to read, only to lean back with a desperate groan.

  
  


_Malfoy,_

_We have a problem._

_Ron is back from his mission abroad. He and Hermione had a fight about the pictures in the press today… I’m trying to explain the situation to him, but we can’t find Hermione. She’s not at home, nor at the Burrow, nor anywhere else I could think of._

_If you know where she is, let me know. I don’t care as long as she is safe and not hurting too much._

_Potter_

  
  


Throwing the crumpled note into the bin next to his desk, Draco made for the door of his office. “Una, do cancel everything left for the afternoon. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

“Boss?”

“Private urgency.” After a quick, dismissive shrug in response to her confused stare, he closed the door again, only to step into his private Floo Network connection; he had an inkling where she was hiding.

 


	4. Chapter 4

His gut feeling proved right the moment he stepped out of the fireplace at his home, as he found her wrapped up on his sofa with a book on her knees. “Oh thank Merlin!”

His outcry startled her, but as soon as she recognised him, her face softened into an apologetic smile, closing the book. “I-I didn’t know where else to go–”

“Don’t worry.” Relieved, but still worried about her, Draco sat down on the lounge table, facing her. “Potter sent me a note… Are you okay?”

To avoid his gaze, she slowly put the book on the small table next to the sofa’s armrest. Only then did she shake her head, lips pressed into a thin line. “Ron… Ron saw the pictures in the press. He-He didn’t know that… that we aren’t married for real.”

“He was abroad for a mission, right?” Without a second thought, he reached for her hand to hold it as a comfort.

Her lips curling ever so slightly into a softer smile, she twined her fingers with his, holding on to him. “I did try to explain to him, but he didn’t believe me. Ugh, it was so stupid… I thought I made it clear that I was breaking up with him for good, that there was no chance of getting back together this time. And-And he thought we just had another relationship break like we had before. And now, with the pictures, he thinks I had an affair with you, and that I only broke up with him because you proposed.”

Draco could hear the anger in her voice, despite her effort to hide it. “Did he do anything–?”

“Like hurt me? No, he’s not that type of person! But… but I think I lost it for a moment when he said those things. I think I hexed him or something. I-I was so shocked about myself that I left. I came here because he doesn’t have access to your place, and I just wanted to calm down again.”

“You can stay as long as you want.”

Sighing, she nodded, even tried to add a smile. “Right now, I just want a hug.”

“Anything…” He squeezed her hand in reassurance before he rose to his feet. “I’ll just let Potter know that you’re here and safe, alright?”

Wrapping the knitted throw tighter around her shoulder, she nodded again. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

 

An hour later, Hermione was cuddling tightly against his frame, her head nestled on his shoulder and her legs long since stretched out over his while she listened intently to him reading from her book. She had calmed down again, even laughed at his terrible attempts of doing voices.

As he finished another chapter of the surprisingly delightful book, he looked at her as he pulled her closer for a moment. “You can stay here for the night if you want. Tilly won’t mind getting the guestroom all set up for you.”

“Can’t we just stay like this?” she replied with a tired sigh. “I… It’s nice.”

Without thought, he pressed a kiss on top of her head, glad she couldn’t see his blushing once he realised what he had done. “Well… I’m afraid my legs might fall asleep soon.”

“Sorry,” she said with a small smirk, tilting her head up to look at him. “It’s just so comfortable.”

Just as he wanted to start the next chapter, the Floo activated, announcing a call. Hermione immediately tensed up, shaking her head as Draco put the book aside.

“Draco?” a female voice came through. “Are you there?”

After carefully pushing Hermione’s legs off his lap, Draco went over to the fireplace. “I’m here, Ginny. I told your husband already that Hermione is safe–”

“Oh, I can see her at the edge,” Ginny said with a relieved smile. “Just wanted to say that we finally managed to talk to my dear brother. Did you really hex him?”

“Oh God, yes. I’m so sorry about it...” Hermione hid her embarrassment behind her hands as she nodded.

“Don’t worry,” Ginny replied through the Floo, then her face briefly disappeared, her voice becoming distant. Seconds later, a bag was pushed through. “However, I figured you’d be staying for the night, so I picked up a few things. Sorry if I didn’t get everything you usually need for the night. And I fed Crookshanks–”

“Thanks.” Draco brought the bag over to Hermione who immediately inspected the contents with a happy smile.

“Thank you! You’re a sweetheart!”

“No problem!” Ginny’s face reappeared in the flames, her eyes switching to Draco. “Please take care of her. As much as I love my brother, he sometimes forgets to think when he is angry…”

“I get why he was angry, but it was a nasty fight based on what she told me.” He threw a glance behind him to the sofa where Hermione was still checking out the contents of the bag.

“The boys had a shouting match, to be honest. Harry was pissed that Ron was late for his report this morning, and Ron was still upset from his fight with Hermione. If only he had come straight to the Auror office…”

Draco nodded. “I’ll make sure she is fine. Thanks for the bag, though.”

Ginny’s smile widened. “I’ll call again tomorrow. And Hermione, don’t worry, okay?”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.”

With that, Ginny disappeared again, and the Floo connection died down. After a quick look at the clock, Draco sighed but covered it immediately with a smile. “How about getting ready for bed now? It’s late, and I do need to get up early tomorrow.”

Her smile wavered for a second, but then she nodded and stretched her legs to get up and follow him to the bedrooms. At the door to the guest room, she pressed a kiss on his cheek. ”Thanks for letting me stay tonight.”

* * *

 

The next morning, Draco was rather rudely pulled from his pleasant dreams by his alarm, just as he got to the best part of it—Hermione had been the main part of his dream, and she had just taken off her shirt.

With an annoyed grunt, he silenced the alarm and turned on his back to stretch his legs and arms before getting up. As he spread out his arms to the side, he found that something had encroached on his personal space.

Holding his breath, he turned back on his side, facing the heap of blanket next to him and slowly pulled it down, only to breathlessly gasp at the sight.

“You have a very annoying alarm,” Hermione murmured and tried to pull the blanket up again.

“Well…” He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her sleepy form, eyes still closed and hair covering the majority of the pillow she had claimed for the night. Without a second thought, he brushed an obstinate strand out of her face, caressing her cheek in the process.

She hummed and leaned into his touch. “That’s better.”

He slid closer as carefully as he could, his fingers still softly tracing her cheek and neck; her content smile at his touch was mesmerising, and he ached to kiss her awake. “Good morning, you sleepy head.”

Only then did Hermione open her eyes, or at least the eye that wasn’t covered by the pillow; she immediately covered it with her hand when she recognised him with an embarrassed groan. “Morning.”

“How come you are here?” he asked, his voice now a sleepy but soft whisper as he gently pulled her hand from her face.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, grinning nervously. “I counted thousands of sheep, but I just couldn’t relax enough. And I always sleep better with someone next to me–”

“So you came over.”

She nodded, her grin softening into a warm smile that brightened up her whole face. “Thanks for being so nice, even though you don’t really have to be.”

“Hermione, please, it’s no big–”

She placed a finger on his lips. “My filters aren’t working yet… I know it’s just a game of pretence, but I do enjoy spending time with you, you know? Honestly, it’s nice to feel appreciated and not taken for granted. I… I haven’t felt this comfortable in a long while, not even with…”

Her sigh sent a pang through his chest; it sounded lonely and miserable, as short as it was. So, he reached for the hand that was still covering his mouth and twined their fingers. “No one should ever take you for granted. You’ve done more remarkable things than other wizards ever achieve in their lifetime. And everyone who forgets that, well… they aren’t worth your attention.”

There was now a spark in her eyes, and her smile had turned into a little smirk as she squeezed his hand and pulled him a little closer. “And you think  _you_  are worth my attention?”

“Hmm… Given that you chose to sleep in  _my_  bed, I’d say so.” He didn’t resist her pulling, and his gaze lingered on those temptingly smirking lips. He’d give his bloody fortune to just know whether her little flirting game right now meant he was allowed to kiss her.

Little shivers of excitement kept running down his spine because he was so goddamn close, and she was pulling him even closer. If only his little treacherous heart would stop beating so damn hard against his chest.

But before he could move in to claim her lips, she buried her face in the fabric of his sleep shirt, pressed against his chest, inhaling deeply before letting the air out again in a low purr.

He was fucked.

And after a check on his alarm, he was also starting to run late to his dismay. Burying his fingers in the hair on the side of her head, he gently tilted her up. “Come with me to the company, I’d like to show you what I do all day, meet my people…”

Her face once more brightened up with a smile, and she nodded in response. “I’d love to. But not without coffee first.”

“My kind of person!” He chuckled and finally let go of her to climb out of bed, followed by Hermione after a hard yawn and a stretch of her legs.

 

“Good morning, Una.” As every morning after arriving in his office, Draco made a point of greeting his assistant, who narrowed her eyes at him for a second, silently scolding him.

“Boss, you’re late,” Una said with exactly the right measure of disappointment in her voice to make him blush for the briefest of moments before he caught himself again.

“I’m aware of that.” He stepped out of his office, gently pulling Hermione with him who was still admiring his office, or more likely the view. “My… er…  _wife_  was the reason for my tardiness. Una, this is Hermione. She helped me get the Thursby deal.”

Now Una’s face brightened up with the biggest smile she could muster as she rose to her feet to greet Hermione. “So, you’re the one. Lovely to meet you!”

“Er… yes. I’m the one.” Slightly confused, but with a soft smile, Hermione shook Una’s hand. “I’m sorry for making him late; it wasn’t my intention.”

“Don’t worry, love. Only a couple of minutes anyway.” Una suddenly remembered a message and searched her desk for it until she found a note on a piece of parchment. “Boss, Mr Zabini asks for a response to his meeting proposal, the earlier the better.”

Draco widened his eyes and let out a small gasp. “Damn, I meant to do that yesterday. I’ll be right back!”

As he hastily searched for the proposal parchment to write a response, he could hear the two women exchange a few words outside his still open office door.

“I guess he’s going to show you around?” Una asked, apparently sitting down again based on the squeaking sound of her chair.

“He said so, yeah,” Hermione replied, probably with a nod. “What’s he like as a boss?”

“Oh, I worked for quite a few people in my lifetime, and he is amongst the nicest of them. I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else, even though he does have his snarky moments.”

Hermione briefly laughed at Una’s words. “Oh yes, he is snarky!”

“But everyone loves working for his company. I’m sure he’ll explain everything on your tour anyway. We’re still growing though, trying to get recognised as a quality supplier of potions and ingredients, but the wages are more than fair, and those with families get holiday priority over the summer.”

With the finished response in his hand, he returned to Una’s desk. “Good workplace makes loyal employees, that’s all.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Una took the note and placed it in her urgent outbox, although she kept throwing him side-glances throughout. “I’m glad he has you now. As much as he does for society, he deserves a little happiness himself.”

“Una, please,” Draco uttered in slight exasperation, brushing through his hair to get a stubborn strand out of his eyes.

“So, what does he do for society, then?” Hermione asked, her voice taking a teasing hint as she looked at him. Her smile, however, was warm, almost ardent even.

“I think one of his favourites is the charity fund for students from poor families, covering school books, uniforms, and wands even in some cases.”

“That’s  _you_?” Now Hermione gasped in surprise, although she immediately covered her gaping mouth with her hand. “I heard about that, and it’s such a great help for those children!”

“Privately funded,” Una added, leaning towards Hermione. “I told you, he’s one of the nicest bosses I ever worked for. Don’t let him slip away, my dear.”

“I-I think we better start with the tour now,” Draco said, his cheeks burning, although he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit proud because Hermione kept looking at him with those big eyes, sparkling with astonishment and a hint of adoration. “Or you’ll have to reschedule a lot.”

 

Half an hour later, he was leading her into the laboratory section of his company, one of his favourite places besides his own office. “Now, I want to show you one of my latest projects, but please don’t mention it outside this lab.”

“I can keep my mouth shut; you should know that,” Hermione replied as she followed him into the anteroom where she was handed a lab coat and a pair of safety glasses.

Seconds later, he opened the lab door with a touch on the magic sensor. “I know you are very keen on improving life quality of those suffering from lycanthropy. One of my teams here has been working on an improved Wolfsbane Potion for a while now. It’s a complicated potion to begin with, so progress is slow.”

“Complicated and expensive.” Her eyes wide in wonder, Hermione looked around, checking every vial and lingering on different setups of tests, although she thankfully refrained from touching anything.

“Yes, expensive. We try and find an alternative that is just as effective, but less costly; that way, it might be available for more people.”

“Mr Malfoy!” One of the lab employees came over to greet them. “We’re almost ready for the next test run, although we are running low on aconite.”

“Thanks, Larkin. Send me the results once the test run is done.” Draco nodded in acknowledgement as he watched Hermione shake the employee’s hand. He saw her eyes widen when she saw the scars on his hands as well as the faint ones in his face.

“Such an honour to meet you! We all hope you’ll get the law reforms to pass the vote; they would be such a tremendous victory for us!”

“You’re… You’re…” Hermione glanced from Larkin to Draco and back. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Larkin’s smile widened in response to the stuttered apology. “Don’t worry, Miss Granger. Many people are surprised when I tell them that  _we_  work for Mr Malfoy.”

“Larkin here is a specialist for everything related to the aconite plant; no one knows more about it,” Draco explained with a shrug. He tried to keep a straight face despite the growing feeling of pride in his chest because he had managed to make Hermione speechless. “I needed someone with that knowledge for the project, so I hired him. He recommended the others on the team.”

“Why don’t you talk about this in the papers?” Hermione asked, still completely baffled. “You could set an example that others would follow!”

“I’ve been called a hypocrite far too often in the past, so…”

“I get that, but still…” Nodding, she ran a hand over her hair on the side of her head, grinning sheepishly every time she caught his gaze. “Damn, and I underestimated you in everything! You really learned the lesson…”

Draco had always hoped to show her his achievements one day, so he did relish the sight of her trying to comprehend everything, looking around the labs in astonishment. But then, she surprised him by closing the space between them and pulling him down for a grateful peck on his cheek. However, he turned his head at the wrong moment, so their lips touched each other instead.

He froze at the touch, his whole body feeling as if electricity ran through it. His heart was racing, but he didn’t dare to breathe as he waited for her reaction.

He was fucked. Utterly so.

After a brief smile without losing contact, Hermione pulled him even closer to deepen the kiss, coaxing him gently into more.

He was stunned.

Yet, after a deep intake of much-needed air, he finally found the courage to frame her face with his hands, his fingers digging into those beautifully soft curls on the side, and ever so slightly part his lips.

The first touch of their tongues had him let out a small, content moan; within moments, he was lost to the sensation of her kissing him, claiming his lips in such a soft, yet addictive way.

They both didn’t quite hear Larkin quietly leaving the room to return to his work.

In the end, it was Hermione who finally pulled away, her forehead pressed against his as she smiled sheepishly, licking her lips. “I… Sorry. This was… wow.”

He was mesmerised by the tongue running over her lips; he ran his thumb over their corner before continuing the trail across her cheek. “You have no idea how much I… how long I waited for this. It’s… Hermione, it’s not a pretence for me.”

Still smiling warmly, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Shit.”

Draco was surprised by her response to his admission, even more so by the low chuckle that escaped her as she kept shaking her head in disbelief. “What’s–?”

“I was so stupid!” With a laugh, she straightened up, her hands now on his that were still resting on her cheeks. “I really should have listened to my friends. Draco, you… I don’t know how to say this. You-You changed so much, and everything you showed me only made me  _like_  you more. You care, and I wish I knew how to show you how much that means to me. It’s-It’s not a pretence for me any longer either–”

He stopped her from babbling any more, capturing her lips in another, deeper kiss, daring to let his heart dance in joy when she responded in kind.

Una would have to reschedule his appointments for today. He was not going to let Hermione slip away now.

* * *

 

“So, you really want to make me your Lady Malfoy for real?” Hermione asked the next day as she pushed the door to her flat open, Draco following behind her.

“At some point, yes. But I’m not in a hurry.” He closed the door behind him before he reached for her hand to pull her in to him. “There are other things I prefer to do, like kissing that smirk off your lips–”

“Merlin, you’re insatiable!” She willingly let him gently push her against the wall in the corridor before meeting him in another kiss, pulling his body as close as she could. Her hands ran all over his back and sides, teasing him along the seam of his trousers until they came to rest on his arse.

Slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement about what she was hinting at, Draco kissed his way down her jaw until he reached her earlobe. With cunning lips, he teased her with nibbles and soft sucking until he coaxed small, desperate sounds out of her.

They were sinfully heavenly, something he wanted to hear over and over again.

“Draco,” she finally murmured, her hands running up to his shoulders, only to add a sigh. “Let’s just collect some things I need and… and continue this at your place.”

After one last soft kiss below her ear, he let go of her, and with a grin, he stepped back. “Sorry.”

She nudged him as she turned towards the stairs leading upstairs to her bedroom. “Won’t take long, okay?”

“I’ll just have a look around…”

Halfway up, Hermione stopped and turned around once more. “Just check if you can find Crookshanks somewhere. And don’t worry if he hisses at you; he’s a tad protective, but he can warm up to people.”

He nodded and then watched her walk up the rest of the stairs before turning around to inspect her living room more closely, once more impressed by the cosy feel of the room and the bookshelf covering one wall.

On the sofa was an orange ball of fluffy fur, not moving at all to acknowledge that he had entered the room; only the soft breathing movement indicated that the Kneazle was still alive. However, he preferred not to end up with scratches, so he left him in peace.

Just as he returned his attention to the book wall, curious to know what Hermione loved to read, he heard the front door being opened again, even though he knew that she was still upstairs. His mood sank when he checked and saw a familiar head of red hair enter, as quietly as he could. “Does she know you still have a key to her place, Weasley?”

Ron startled but caught himself within moments, throwing him an annoyed glare as he closed the door behind him. “What are you doing here, Malfoy? Snooping around?”

“She is upstairs to collect a few things to bring over to my place. I’m just waiting here…”

“You really have some guts,” Ron retorted as he moved towards the stairs, even pushing his shoulder into Draco as he passed him. “Don’t think you have a chance.”

Ron barely made another step upstairs when Hermione showed up at the upper landing. “Oh goodness! What are you doing here, Ron?”

Draco could see the colour disappear from the redhead’s face before he gulped.

“Can… Can we talk for a moment? Just promise you don’t hex me again.”

Hermione’s stern stance softened immediately at those words and she nodded. “Downstairs, though.”

Draco remained in the corridor, although he kept them in sight. He didn’t want Hermione to be upset all over again thanks to this sometimes rather insensitive idiot.

“Look,” Ron started cautiously, his hands in his trouser pockets. “I just want to apologise for the fight. It was just a shock to see that picture on the front page. I’m really sorry for what I said; I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“Thanks.” Hermione’s words were just a whisper, and she had her arms crossed, yet she managed to smile. “I’m sorry for hexing you. I was so shocked about it–”

“I think I deserved it.” Ron shrugged and then threw a side-glance to Draco before he returned his attention to her again. “Hermione, you’re a great person, honestly. And I guess–”

“I know, Ron. We’re not made to be a couple. You need someone who makes you a home, and I can’t do that for you. It wouldn’t be fair on either of us.”

“Yeah. That’s what Ginny said too.” After a sigh, he opened his arms to offer a hug, which she gladly accepted. “Just… does it have to be  _him_?”

“Ron!” She hit his back in response and clicked her tongue before winking at Draco who was still watching them from the corridor. “Give him a chance; you’d be surprised.”

“For you.” To Draco’s relief, Ron finally let go again. “Be careful, okay? And if he does hurt you, I’ll hex him for you…”

She chuckled as she patted his upper arm to chastise him gently. “Thanks.”

“Okay, I have to go back to the office, or Harry is going to put me on desk duty for a month.”

“Say hello from us.”

Ron only nodded and then made to leave, ignoring Draco on the way out.

“You found everything?” Draco asked when Hermione joined him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He pressed a kiss on her head and rubbed her back.

“Yes. Not sure what to do about Crookshanks, though. But I guess he’ll be fine for another day as long as he has enough food. I just want to get back and cuddle up.”

“Sure.”

She was his now, and he would make sure to give her anything she wanted or needed. And one day, he’d ask her to become his wife for real, willing to spend the rest of their lives together and watch her change the world.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on:  
> a) [Tumblr](https://naarna.tumblr.com/)  
> b) [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/naarna) (new)  
> c) [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naarna)
> 
> My inbox is open! :-)


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